Oneshots (spn)
by reidnparker
Summary: Most of these will probably be Destiel, sorry not sorry!
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my oneshots! These will mostly be Supernatural based, but maybe there'll be a few other fandoms. If you wanna request one, feel free to comment here, or tweet me ( drparkereid)

I hope that you enjoy reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2 Barista DeanCustomer Cas

Inspired by the 'tired, grumpy worker, and hispter with the ridiculous coffee order' tweet.

 _ **Friday morning, 8.07a.m.**_

As the door to the dimly lit coffee shop dings, the redhead shoots a glance towards whoever has just entered. "You're late!" She flings him a green apron, which he somehow catches one handed.

"My car broke down," he shrugs nonchalantly, lazily dressing himself with the garment that he had just caught.

"Dean, you _bike_ to work." She deadpans, giving him the utmost _'done with your shit'_ look.

"Eh," he simply replies, walking around to join her behind the counter.

Their other two colleagues are busy cleaning the tables inside the small living room type shop, so that they can turn around the 'closed' sign – seven minutes after they're supposed to. At first, they barely get any customers... Which isn't a bad thing.

Dean lounges around behind the counter, letting his good friend Charlie take their early morning orders – and he'll grumble something whenever she calls out an order for him to make. Just as he feels his eyes closing, and his elbows pressing against the cold worktop, the sound of someone clearing their throat interprets him mid-yawn.

There's a young man standing just a few metres away from him – wearing a lot of denim, and a pair of thick, black glasses – who is currently tapping his fingers impatiently against the sketchbook that's held in his arms. "Excuse me? I'm assuming from from apron that you do in fact work here," the blue eyes flit down to Dean's work uniform, and then back up to his half asleep eyes.

Blinking once at the customer, he looks across to see that one of his colleagues is watching him – a.k.a the only worker who actually likes the manager, and vice versa – so, he hurriedly straightens his posture up. "Sorry, uh.. Sir. What can I get ya?" Dean rubs his eyes, and then tries his best to smile.

"I want a large iced caramel macchiato, hold the caramel drizzle and the ice. I want my moneys worth if I'm paying 5 bucks for this... and I want three shots of espresso – oh, and skimmed milk instead of whatever the hell they poured for me last time.. and, make it quick – I got a class in fifteen minutes."

When the guy had parted his lips to speak just a few seconds ago, Dean certainly wasn't expecting _that_ to leave his mouth. Unsure of what on earth to fire back, he turns around to see that Charlie is trying her hardest not to burst out laughing at what the pair of them aren't even sure they heard correctly.

Turning back to the student again, he stares judgingly at the Barista. "Well?" His head cocks to the side, and his eyebrows raise upwards.

"Coming right up, princess." Dean rolls his eyes as dramatically as humanly possible, before turning away from the pompous customer. Grabbing a notepad, he hurriedly scribbles down the order, and then gets to making it.

As he waits for the water to fill one of the plastic cups, Charlie nudges him with her elbow. "He's cute," she comments, whilst taking the ice scoop out of Dean's hand, tapping the part on the notepad where he had jotted down ** _'NO ICE!'_**

Mentally face palming himself, Dean scoffs slightly. "He's a dick," he responds.

Switching off the tap for the water, he moves along to adding the shots of coffee. Charlie follows in pursuit, reaching down into the fridge for the skimmed milk. She pours it into the cup, and then stirs. "Yeah, but... Cute." The redhead shrugs, readjusting her apron.

"And, a prick!" Dean snaps back at her, yawning straight afterwards.

"Mr. Grumpy has gotta stop cramming all of his freakin' studying in the night hours!" Her whisper-shout almost causes him to jump... Charlie never really snaps at anyone, unless they need it.

Apologising to his friend, Dean swirls the coffee around the cup. Placing a lid on top of it, he finally faces the unhappy faced customer at the front of the line. "There ya go, here's your coffee with the hold the this and that's... Enjoy your art class, or whatever." He puts the beverage down on the counter with one swift movement of his hand, and then holds it Palm upwards for the money.

His eyes bore through the customer, as he picks up the drink and inspects it – as if looking at a diamond, in order to see whether or not it's fake. Eventually, he hands Dean a five dollar bill. "Thanks... No need to look so grumpy though. It really doesn't hurt to smile once in a while," the guy informs, but before anything witty can leave Dean's mouth, the sound of the tinkling bell rings... And, the mysterious student is gone.


	3. Chapter 3 Not my kitten!

Cas moves into a new apartment, and becomes aware that a hot guy lives in the apartment below his. When the hot guy isn't on the balcony, a cat is lounging there. One day the cat gets into Cas' apartment, so he catches it – grateful to have an excuse to go downstairs, and meet the hot guy, Dean. It turns out the cat is very much not Dean's, it just hangs out on his balcony no matter how much he shoots it away, and now he's sneezing ucontrollably. Cas apologises, befriends Dean, and winds up adopting the cat.

It's a breezy summer's morning, when Cas is distracted from his book by a quiet sound coming from his kitchen... A 'meowing' sound, to be precise. Placing the book faced downwards onto his glass coffee table, he gets up to investigate.

Sure enough, sitting on his counter like she owns it – a little white kitten... _The_ little white kitten. The same one that Castiel always sees lounging around on the balcony directly below his. Having only moved in three weeks ago, Cas hasn't really gotten to know any of his neighbours. But, he certainly knows _of_ the guy who lives below him – Dean, is his name. And, _wow_ does Cas have a crush on him.

"Hey there, have you come to grant me my wish of finally plucking up the courage to go speak to Dean?" Castiel coos affectionately towards the little animal, nearing her slowly so as not to frighten her out of her nearby open window.

One blue, and one green eye stares back at him, as he finally reaches the edge of the counter. She meows again, and gratefully leans into his comforting touch. He smiles, and picks up the little kitten into his two palms. "Let's get you back to where you belong," he says, making his way towards the front door.

The animal is rather content with snuggling into Cas' t-shirt, as he rides the elevator down to floor one. He knows exactly what door to knock on – he passes it whenever he's on his way to do the laundry.

Giving one one firm knock at the door, he inhales. "Don't let me mess this up," he mutters to the kitten – that's totally normal, talking to an animal... _Right?_

Hearing a disgruntled groan from somewhere inside the apartment before him, Cas shifts on one foot. He hopes that he hasn't disturbed Dean from doing something important. With no time to worry about ruining the hot guy's day, he is soon faced with the man – who doesn't looked too pleased about being faced with Cas.

"Hi – I brought your cat back... She was roaming inside my kitchen, so I thought I'd better return her," Castiel explains all in one breath – barely being able to utter the last word without trying to gasp for some much needed oxygen.

Dean blinks twice, and then steps backwards a little. "Slow down... You're what?" The gruff voice questions, and Castiel feels his cheeks heating up. He's never really had the chance to hear him speak, and now he's completely thrown off course.

"Uh..." Trailing off, Cas forgets what he was taking about. The small meow from the snowy white fluff ball in his hands promptly reminds him, so he looks back up at Dean with a newfound spark of confidence.

Holding the kitten out to the confused male, he attempts at speaking at a normal pace this time. "Your kitten was in my apartment, so I decided she'd better go back to where she belongs," he flashes a smile, hoping that Dean would thank him and befriend his awkwardness.

"I – uh, I hate to break it to you... But..." Stepping back even further, Dean suddenly ducks behind his door and sneezes.

Castiel frowns, unsure of what Dean was going to say. "Bless you." He comments, further awaiting the explanation that he was about to recieve.

He appears back in the door way once again, rubbing his nose. "That's not –" another sneeze, "my cat!" He finally manages to get it out, seeming in a little distress – to say the least.

Castiel's eyes widen, and he hurriedly withdraws his outstretched arms from the guy. He looks down at the innocent looking kitten, and then back up at the sniffling hot guy. "She's – she's not?" He watches Dean shake his head vigorously, and then notes that he's continuing to stand further and further away.

"Who does she belong to then? And, why is she always on _your_ balcony?!" Simply wanting to get the poor animal back to where she belongs, Cas' concern comes across in his raised voiced tone.

"I don't freakin' know! She won't leave me alone, no matter how –" his hands appear by his mouth again, as he sneezes yet again. "– often I shoo her away." His arms fold defensively over his chest, and an annoyed frown paints across his reddened face.

Cas' mouth drops open slightly, and then he proceeds to look towards the kitten, and then towards Dean... Who's preparing for another sneeze. _Shit._

"ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO CATS?!" Castiel blurts out in one big, blended together word. He stumbles backwards, almost tripping over his own clumsy feet.

The total, utter look of _'I am so done with you'_ appears on Dean's face, before his pursed lips open slightly. "No shit, Sherlock." He huffs, blinking the tears out of his watery eyes – which Cas can't help staring at, because they're genuinely such a captivating green.

"I am _so_ sorry, oh my god... Why didn't you just say something?!" He gushes an apology, knowing that he's definetely ruined any chance of befriending the hot guy below him now.

A cross between a laugh and a choke emits from Dean's mouth, "oh, I don't know... Maybe because I could barely get a word out?" Cas is glad that he's laughing, even though the sarcasm literally drips from the sentence that he's just retorted with.

"What am I gonna do with the kitten now?" A small gasp leaves Cas' own mouth, and he flinches slightly as Dean – _you guessed it_ – has to sneeze one more time.

"Take her away from me, for starters!" Is the slightly yelled out reply, to which Castiel responds by moving as far back as he can go, without hitting into the wall behind him.

He waits with curiosity, as Dean heads inside his apartment, and then comes back out again. "Look, try looking for a shelter agency in here," he hesitantly walks towards Cas, and hands him a yellow pages.

"Far as I know, she's a stray," he steps back inside the safety of his own doorway, and then uses a tissue.

"T – thank you, and honestly I really am sorry. I just assumed that she was yours," chewing on his bottom lip out of an anxious habit, Castiel is surprised when Dean's face cracks into a smile.

"Eh, it was somewhat worth it." He shrugs, and then that familiar feeling of warmth against Cas' cheeks seems to suddenly reappear.

Swallowing hard, he dares to question Dean what he means. "Meaning?" His eyes of blue dart up to meet that bright green shade, that are now tinged with a redness around them – no thanks to stupid Castiel Novak.

"I've kinda been wanting to talk to the hot new guy, from upstairs." He admits, shoving his hands into his pockets, as a shy smile paints upon his lips.

Almost physically gasping in surprise, Cas trise his best to keep his cool. "Well, you know... I've kinda been pining to talk to you ever since I noticed you. Um, if I stop by again – kitten-less, this time – would you consider inviting me in for coffee?" It seems as if his mouth is moving without one hundred percent of his brain's permission, but Dean is already opening his own to reply.

"I might just have to take you up on that, um..?"

"Castiel – Cas. I already kind of overheard someone utter your name in the laundry room, at least, I'm guessing 'the super hot guy in room nine' counts as being you," a loud chuckle comes from Dean, who scratches at the back of his neck.

He looks up from his bare feet, and his smile is contagious. "What can I say? Chicks dig me. But, I'd rather be dug by you," he winks, and then clicks his tongue – causing Cas to laugh at his smug attitude. Knowing that he's only joking though, this doesn't phase his opinion on him at all.

"Well, uh, I'm gonna get out of your way now. Sorry again," a half smile flashes over at Dean, who lifts his hand up to wave.

He's about to say goodbye to the hot guy from upstairs, but his nose clearly has some other ideas. Cas scowls at the kitten in his arms as he hears Dean sneeze, and then he calls out, "bless you!" Before stepping inside of the elevator.

Upon Castiel's second visit to Dean's, he was in fact invited in, and they bonded over some homemade pie and coffee. Cas likes Dean a lot, and it seems to be rather reciprocated – because, two weeks later and they're heading out on their first date.

Not after Dean has taken his new allergy pills, of course... Because, Castiel Novak couldn't bring himself to get rid of the little mischief maker who set him up with a super hot, and nice guy. So, he adopted her... And, he named her 'Freckles.'

 _Why?_

Because he wanted to name her something that reminded him of someone he's fallen head over heels for... Despite their awkward, first interaction.


	4. Chapter 4 The young Winchesters

In which six year old Dean, has to take two year old Sam grocery shopping... And, little Sammy wanders off.

 _ **Late evening time, some time during 1985.**_

Sam sits patiently at the rickety motel table, tapping his hands on the top of it – he can barely even touch the surface, despite Dean having to use two pillows so that he can reach. "Ugh," Dean grumbles, stepping down from the chair that he was using to look inside the cupboard.

He looks over at his younger brother, and then sighs. He can't leave him alone to go and get food, but what will anyone who's watching him take his toddler brother shopping say, exactly? "Sammy, we gotta go to the store real quick." He wanders over to where Sam is now folding his arms, and pouting grumpily up at him.

"No. I hungry!" Sam protests, not understanding the situation.

"Come on," he holds his arms out for Sam to jump into them, but he won't.

"Don't wanna," he huffs adamantly.

Dean rolls his eyes, before simply lifting him up without giving him a choice. "Fine, be like that." He shrugs, placing Sam on the bed and putting his shoes on.

Seeing the small tears appearing in the corners of Sam's green eyes, Dean starts to feel bad. He quickly runs to his duffel bag, and pulls out a blue pacifier. "Don't tell Dad," he gives it to Sam, who's face immediatley lights up.

Picking up the scruffy hoody for Sam, he pulls it over his head. "Right, we'll be quick." He instructs, grabbing the emergency funds that John always leaves for him in the bedside drawer. He takes Sam's hand, and then they walk outside. It's dusk – about half past six, in the evening – and, the motel grounds are quiet.

Dean knows that there's a grocery store nearby, because he saw it when they drove past on the way to the motel – four days ago. He carefully leads Sam through the parking lot, and then they make sure to cross the road at the right place. "We don't jaywalk, do we Sammy?" Dean says to his toddling brother, who's too busy staring at a dog from across the street to be conversing with him right now.

"What's a jaywalk?" He frowns, his voice muffled from the pacifier.

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. He doesn't say anything, but he just sighs with relief as the sign for the grocery store comes into view ahead of them. There's a few late night shoppers wandering around – taking double glances as Dean walks past them, holding Sammy's hand.

He picks up a basket, and then finds his way to the cereal aisle. "This one!" Sam grabs the lucky charms, trying to throw them into the basket. Dean let's him, but then draws the line as he sees his little brother trying to grab some chocolate wheaties.

"We don't have enough for it all! We need some proper food," he tries to explain, quickly holding Sam by the wrist before he runs off.

He leads him to the soup aisle – swiftly guiding him away from any candy or chocolate ones. Going on his tiptoes to reach one of the cans on the middle shelf, Dean then turns around and places it into the basket. "Is tomato okay, Sammy?" He turns to his left – where Sam was standing just a few moments ago.

"Sam?" Frantically turning his head to look around the now empty aisle, Dean feels the feeling of panic setting in.

He yanks the basket from its resting place on the floor, and then tears into a run out of the aisle. "Sam?!" He yells, looking up and down every single one. He isn't even in the candy aisle... Which is extremely worrying. When he makes his way down the bread aisle, he suddenly tunes in to a small whimpering noise. "Sammy?" Spinning on his worn out sneaker heels, Dean follows the source of the noise, all the way to the end of the aisle.

The youngest Winchester is sat on an empty shelf, tears staining his rosy red cheeks. "Sam, why did you do that?!" Dean scolds loudly, dropping the basket so that he can pick the sad tot up from the ground.

"I – I wanted candy, and I got lost!" He wails into Dean's shoulder, as his elder brother pats his back.

"You never run off again, okay?" He says sternly, and feels Sam nodding in agreement.

Reaching down to pick up the basket, Dean mentally prepares himself for twenty questions from the cashier. He has a recurring excuse for all of them though – the one where his single Mom is sick, and Dean bravely walked from a few houses away to get his brother some dinner.

They were always heading into a different town by the time anyone could chase their case up with the police, or social services. So, the little Winchesters always managed to get away.


	5. Chapter 5 High School Destiel

Cas' worn out sneakers swing back and forth, under the bench in the boys' locker room. He's waiting for his friend Dean to finish in the showers, since he asked him to wait here – they're going to watch a movie, after his practice.

The familiar rowdy buzz of chatter soon fills his ears, as the football team pile out of the shower room. Castiel's eyes of blue advert towards the ground, but they jerk upwards again when the bench vibrates from a heavy gym bag landing on it. "Move," a gruff voice snaps, and of course he's going to do as he's told.

"Sorry," he mumbles barely even audible enough for his own ears to register.

"You will be," the guy scoffs, but his rudeness is interrupted as someone else enters the proximity of where they're standing.

The comforting smell of that unmistakable cologne gives Cas enough confidence to tear his gaze away from his sneakers. "Leave him alone, you douchebag." Dean stands as close as he can to his fellow jock, not removing eye contact for one moment.

The guy simply laughs, before swiping up his bag and heading towards another bench. Half smiling at his friend, Cas takes his seat back again. "You don't need to keep doing that for me," he says – only loud enough for the Winchester to hear.

"That's what best friends are for, right?" He quips, flashing Cas a smile.

Forcing himself to smile back, Cas replays his words quietly inside of his mind. _'Best friends.'_

Not even two whole days later, and Castiel Novak finds himself in another situation, where he's being cornered. He's heading out of the library to find Dean – who's most likely kissing some girl behind the bleachers – when he heads around a corner, only to come face to face with three jocks.

Unfortunatley, they see him before he has the chance to turn around. Keeping his head down low, he attempts at walking through their crowd. "Excuse me," he says with all of his might, as they purposefully move closer to each other, in order to block his path.

"Sorry, we only let _normal_ people come down this corridor," the tallest one jeers.

Cas rolls his eyes. He remembers what Dean tells him all of the time – 'stick up for yourself, you don't deserve the shit that they give you.' He takes a large intake of breath, before blurting out, "let me through!"

The gang of males begin to laugh, and they each step closer to Cas' face. "Or what? You'll get your boyfriend on us?" They snigger, a few of them holding their hands out for fellow high fives.

"Dean isn't my boyfriend, and I can stick up for myself." He states firmly, and then takes a shot at pushing past them.

Well... That was his _first_ mistake. Bouncing backwards after bumping into the muscly chest of the middle man, their facial expressions each drop down into in sync frowns. "Are you looking for a fight today?" The smallest – who is still at least three inches taller than Novak – cracks his knuckles.

"No, I don't believe in violence.. I'd just like to get past you," he unintentionally gulps, watching the three pairs of eyes as they fiercely glue themselves to different areas of his body.

Silently accepting his fate, Cas feels the first punch hit him straight in the nose. He doesn't fall down though, whereas his array of books do go scattering to the floor. "He's getting confident," one of them comments, watching as their victim stands up straight again.

Thinking that losing his books would be better than losing a few teeth, Cas quickly makes a break for the small gap that has formed inbetween the three teenage boys. And, that was his _second_ mistake. He's yanked back just before he can make a break out of the double doors, that are just a couple of metres away. "Trying to run?!" The chuckle hurts his ears, it's so loud and obnoxious.

The next punch hits him in the stomach, and the gang finally get what they want – Cas lying on the floor in pain. He screws his eyes shut, preparing for the impact of the combat boot that he had seen raising from the ground in anticipation just a few seconds ago. But, five seconds pass, and no kick comes.

Opening one eye just a little, he spots a fourth figure in the equation now. This fourth figure seems to have just smacked the tallest jock right in the face, as he's now holding his jaw in pain. "Fuck off," the low, defensive tone could be recognisable to Cas from twenty miles away.

"This isn't over, Winchester," the one with the injured jaw mumbles slightly incoherently, due to his newfound pain.

Dean eyes the teacher to his left, and then laughs. His middle finger brands itself into the air, as the three boys hurry off out of the double doors to their right. The next thing Cas feels is Dean's strong grip hoisting him up from the ground. The eyes of green look him up and down in disappointment, which causes Castiel to note the blood on his shirt.

"You can't keep letting them do this to you," he says, taking Cas by the arm to lead him through the double doors, and outside into the school grounds.

"You know I don't believe in reciprocating violence," the shorter male replies to his friend.

Dean sighs heavily, before handing Cas his books back, that he'd collected after delivering that perfectly aimed punch to Jake Whiting's smug little face. "Thank you," the ocean eyes flicker downwards again.

Then proceeding to hand Cas a tissue – to clean up the blood, that's stained his face, as well as his shirt – he clears his throat. "Let's just go back to mine, you can borrow some of my clean clothes... Then, we're going out for food." The Winchester announces, and Castiel dare'n't argue.

Feeling in much higher spirits now, Castiel Novak has almost forgotten about the pain he was caused a few hours earlier. His hands are deep inside the warm hoody that Dean let him borrow, and it smells strongly of his cologne too.

The best friends have just walked out of a nearby burger joint, where they sat and ate for quite a while. They also talked, and laughed, a lot – something Cas _really_ needed. The chilly evening air travels over their skin, as they both look up at the star dusted sky. "Wanna go back to mine and watch a movie?" Dean suggests – since it's Friday.

"Please," Cas answers, for once not disagreeing with his plans for relaxing, for the sake of studying instead.

A smile creeps its way upon Dean's face, as they both turn the corner onto a new street. "Shit," Dean grabs Cas' arm, but it's too late to turn him around.

There's too many cars on the road to run across the street safely, and they can't turn around now. The group of fellow jocks are already walking towards them – having noticed their fellow teammate, in his strikingly obvious football jacket, within seconds. They also noticed his friend, who's wearing _Dean's_ clothes. An opportunity they simply cannot afford to miss.

"I didn't know you swung that way, Winchester?" Jake's voice is the first to start off the taunts, as the large group head towards them both.

Cas glances desperately behind them, only to see pretty much the whole other half of their school's football team about to join them. Dean can't beat all of these guys up, and there's certainly not going to be any teachers wandering by to save them. _Crap._

His heart beat is quickening, but the look in Dean's eyes seems to be calm. "You know what?" Looking directly at Jake, Cas wonders what he's planning... Maybe, he'll go for Jake first, which will give Cas a chance to run.

An intense feeling of shock soon runs its way throughout Castiel's body, as his fingers become entwined with Dean's – who actually initiated this contact. The next thing that happens practically renders Cas completely breathless... Dean Winchester turns towards his best friend, and leans slowly in towards his lips.

The Winchester's eyes are closed, his eyelashes fluttering delicately as their mouths both touch against one another's. At first, Cas' eyes are wide open. He expects Dean to pull away milliseconds after the contact, because, well... He's straight, right? So, he's probably only doing this to piss the jocks off.

But, when Dean's other hand finds its place gently against Cas' hip, and he starts to move closer to Castiel's trembling body, he finds that his own pair of eyes are now closing too. They both move with the kiss, taking in each others presence. In fact – if it wasn't for a gasp of surprise coming from somewhere nearby, they most likely would've continued to get lost in the moment, and carry on forgetting that they're in public.

Dean is the first to jump back, the look on his face almost equally as surprised as Cas'. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket, before a lopsided grin appears on his face. Turning to look at the open mouthed faces of his fellow teammates, the Winchester simply shrugs.

"Well, I guess I'm not as straight as I thought I was."


	6. Ch 6 Small Talk in the Nurse's Office

Castiel crushes on Dean pretty much 24/7. But, Cas is the nerd... And, Dean is the super popular jock. When both students happen to be the only ones inside of the waiting room for the nurse's office, it seems that maybe opposites do in fact attract, afterall.

A sweltering hot summer's day, is the day that Cas Novak's wishes _finally_ come true. The day starts off pretty crap though – consisting of getting the shit kicked out of him by the usual bullies, as usual.

As he slumps into his chair at the back of the classroom (five minutes late, due to cleaning as much blood off of his face and clothes as possible,) a small gasp emits from his tiny, English teacher. "Castiel, whatever did you do to yourself?!" She squeaks, tottering over to where he's violently blinking in order to be able to see straight.

The pain in his head sears it's way throughout his temple, and aches all the way behind his eyes. He had actually fallen and hit his head on some lockers pretty hard, which is most likely why the bullies had run off and left him alone. "I – I fell," Cas gropes at his stomach, as a slightly nauseous feeling rushes over him when he speaks.

Looking directly into his eyes, his teacher tuts loudly. "Take yourself off to the nurse, at once! Bradbury, help him to it!" She ushers the redhead to stand up from her seat, and make her way to Novak's side.

"I'm fine," waving his hand, Cas pushes his chair backwards in order to stand up.

Of course, he dramatically sways to the left – thankfully, the side that Charlie is standing on. She catches him easily, considering they're pretty much the same height. Holding safely onto his arm, the pair make their way out of the classroom. "I know you didn't just _fall,_ " she states, now that they're out of earshot of their teacher.

Castiel ignores her comment, and focuses on not vomiting on her converse instead. "You need to stick up for yourself... I learnt to," she speaks again.

Sighing, they turn the last corner that they need to go down, in order to reach their destination. "Thanks," Cas mumbles, leaning against the wall before he prepares himself the embarrassment of facing whoever is sitting inside the waiting room.

"Just... You don't deserve that," Charlie Bradbury is the sweetest soul – she's usually the one to pair up with Cas in group work, and compliment him on his doodles.

"Hmm," the blue eyed student shrugs, turning so that he can push the door handle down.

Hearing the girl sigh quietly, Cas enters the nurse's waiting room. The sound of Charlie's footsteps thudding away into the distance causes Castiel to realise just how quiet the room is. The door clicks shut behind him, and he's forced to tear his eyes away from the ground, in order to search for a seat. Maybe he should've looked up before the door closed though, because sitting in the corner slouched in one of the worn out chairs, is... Dean Winchester himself.

A.k.a popular jock, and member of the football team. Also known as Castiel's ultimate crush. Feeling a warm blush already creeping up his neck, Novak hurries his way to the far corner. He jumps onto the seat, and folds his arms over his chest. _Crap, crap, crap._ The sudden pain in his head distracts him from freaking out over being in a room on his own with _Dean Winchester_ , and he winces slightly.

"Hey, you okay?" A gruff voice echoes around the empty boxed room.

Cas' head snaps upwards, not really expecting the jock to talk _to him_ , of all people. Unable to piece a sentence together safely without the chance of him stuttering, he just decides to nod instead. "You look like you're about to hurl, dude." Dean comments, eyeing Cas up and down – which is _so_ very distracting.

"Why are you in here, anyway?" Changing the subject and almost having an aneurism over the fact that he's plucking up enough courage to talk to Dean Winchester, Cas sits up a little more.

"Coach Singer is too dramatic," the sarcasm is showing... But, Cas knows that Dean is one to be stubborn. He once remembered when he tried to finish a game (yes, Cas watches him play) with a broken wrist.

Trying not to stare at him too intently, but also feeling intimidated everytime their eyes both met, Cas continues to be intrigued. "But, why'd he send you here?"

"Because, my brother is little asshat... And, he told coach that I couldn't play today – 'cause, I woke up with a fever. Which is gone now, might I add." Dean grumbles, the frown on his face looking too adorable for words.

"You shouldn't play if you're sick – it'll only get worse," Cas finds himself saying, and he's confused when the Winchester laughs at his statement.

"I'm fine," he replies matter-of-factly, but when he attempts at crossing his legs after speaking, Castiel can't miss the look of discomfort upon his face.

"Aching joints, huh? Should probably see a nurse about that," a smile tugs at Cas' lips.

Dean looks at him, and finds that the guy has an extremely contagious smile. "Shut up," he grins, leaning back in his chair.

A couple of seconds later, and the dramatic sound of the door flying open causes both Cas and Dean to flinch in shock. "Cas, here's your stuff... Miss doesn't want you to come back to lesson with a concussion," Charlie carefully hands him his school things, before turning to smile at Dean.

Barely having time to thank her, the cheery redhead is gone as quick as she had come. "Is that your sketchbook?" Dean questions, eyeing the worn out navy blue book that Cas is clearly gripping the tightest.

Unbeknownst to the fact that the jock was even aware of the fact that Cas owned a sketchbook, he nods shyly. "I've seen some of your drawings before, when you draw in class.. I wish I could draw," he admits, looking at Novak with a look of such interest.

"Y – _you_ think they're good?" He stumbles over his words, whilst his cheeks become dusted with pink.

Dean chuckles, "of course I do!" The pair are interrupted as the door to the nurse's office finally opens, and a first grader with an embarrassed look on his charred face leaves the room. "Bunson burners," the woman rolls her eyes, and Cas and Dean each snigger quietly.

"Right, Winchester... In you come, please." She looks towards Dean, who groans like the drama queen that he is.

Shakily standing up from his seat, Castiel feels a sudden twinge of sympathy for him – wouldn't it be great if he could just wander over and cuddle him. "This conversation of compliments isn't over, Novak." Cas looks around the room as if he might be referring to someone else, and then his eyes flit back up to where the Winchester is grinning cheekily back at him.

"Football practice, Saturday... Meet me by the bleachers, and this time I might even pose for your drawings," he winks, before the nurse has to resist the temptation to drag the annoying kid inside the room by his ear.

Meanwhile, Castiel is sat wondering whether or not the affects of his concussion have just caused him to hallucinate Dean freakin' Winchester actually sending him compliments. And, asking to actually spend time with him?

Maybe dreams _do_ come true, afterall.


	7. Chapter 7 A Meeting at the Park

In which single father's – Dean Winchester, and Castiel Novak – take their kids to the park, and find pleasant company within one another's presence. {idea from: halseybullshit on Twitter!}

Strawberry jam is stuck in his hair, his fingers have been messily painted with tacky kids' nail polish, his feet already ache and he has 'Let It Go' deadpanning through gritted teeth already... That's right, its eleven a.m. in Dean Winchester's world.

Deciding that a trip to the park on a slightly sunny Saturday afternoon is more favourable than staying at home and getting pestered by your overactive three year old daughter, Dean is now yelling at her to wait for him by the tree stump she just almost fell over – she's getting 'a bit too old' to hold his hand now, _apparently._

Scrawny tufts of deep brunette hair get in the way of those emerald eyes. "What did Daddy tell you?" Dean stands with one hand on his hip, trying not to pant from exhaustion.

The little girl looks up at him with innocence written across the shade of green, as she tugs at the hem of her denim dress. "Don't talk to strangers, don't eat too much candy, always use a clean tissue –" beginning to reel off pretty much every single one of Dean's house rules, he abruptly stops her.

"What did I tell you before we left the house?" He gives her a look, "smarty pants."

A tiny grin flashes upon her freckle ridden face, "don't run off too far." She finalises, out stretching her freshly pink manicured (thanks to her Daddy) hand, for him to hold.

Moving the bag of important things needed at the park into his left hand, he holds her smaller one in his right. They walk to the park being rather civil, and even chat about the dog that's on the other side of the street. "Can I have a dog?" She skips along, watching her scuffed daisy patterned shoes skim across the concrete.

"No, honey," Dean puts it gently, stopping as they reach the last road they need to cross, before they reach their destination.

Huffing loudly, the girl pouts sadly. "Why?"

"Because Daddy goes to work, and nobody would be there to look after it," the park nears their eyeline.

"But, _I_ can stay home!"

"You have kindergarten," Dean opens the gate to the play area, and grimaces at the high amount of screaming kids.

His daughter tugs away from his hand, but continues their debate. "So?" She folds her arms, practically mastering his own stance.

"So... Nothing. Now, off you go. I'll be right over there," pointing to the only empty bench in the whole place, Dean starts to head over.

Thankfully, his daughter seems to have spotted one of her friends. He sits down on the wooden seat, and smiles as the kids hurry up the climbing frame together. "This seat taken?" A sudden introduction of speech causes Dean to flinch in surprise, then he looks up, and shields his eyes from the sun.

"Nope," the man is kitted out in a wrinkled shirt and navy blue tie – which he's already loosening, even before he takes a seat.

He plonks himself to Dean's right, and places a bag similar to Mr Winchester's own, on the floor in front of his feet. "You gotta bring so much, you know? Juice, tissues, snacks... Band-aids!" The stranger rants, leaning back and catching his breath.

Chuckling quietly, Dean doesn't take his eye off of his little girl, waving when she zooms down the slide. "She yours?" The stranger doesn't get the hint that he's not into conversations, which ensues an almost silent sigh.

"Yeah... How about you?" Looking around for anyone who may resemble the black haired new comer beside him. Dean looks at the guy next to him, deciding to act as engaged as possible... _Wow, this guy is actually extremely nice to look at._

 _T_ he man smiles proudly, before pointing out a slightly taller girl than Dean's – over by the monkey bars. "Took Claire two weeks to learn those, we had to come here practically every damn day."

Noticing that his own child has now queued up to use them, Dean shifts wearily in his seat. "Yeah, my Mary-Rose has never quite gotten to grip."

Both parents watch, as Claire turns around and spots the smaller girl behind her. "That's a sweet name," the guy next to Dean adds politely.

"I'm Cas, by the way," extending a hand for him to shake, Dean thinks _'ah, what the hell?'_ and returns the kind gesture.

Afterall, his kid certainly seems nice enough – Claire is already showing Mary-Rose exactly how to use the monkey bars. "I'm Dean," he introduces back, quickly turning his eyes towards his child once again.

It seems that little Mary is a little too afraid of the monkey bars, so when Claire jumps back onto the sandy floor, she waves for her new friend to follow her over to the swings instead. Letting their daughters wander further away into the playground, the two Dads get chatting.

After bonding over how ridiculous children can be about certain things – Claire's personal favourite is wanting her hair plaited a certain way before school. And, Mary-Rose's? No matter what Dean has tried, he just _cannot_ get rid of her pacifier. "Wanna know how we got rid of Claire's, last year?" Cas bites into an apple that he's just retrieved from the never-ending bag below him.

Seeing Dean nod eagerly, the man carries on. "We left it out for Batwoman to collect, before she goes on her nightly patrol."

Almost choking on his orange flavoured juice box, Dean frowns. "I mean, I've heard of the binky _fairy_ , but –" his lopsided smile of confusion suddenly begins to fade away, as the distant sound of his own child crying begins to fill the air.

Eyes darting towards the area of the wails, sure enough Mary-Rose is nearby. Cas' daughter is holding her hand, as she limps towards the parents. "This boy pushed her down the slide, when she said she didn't want a push! So, I hit him," Claire grins a gap-toothed grin, but her Dad's face contorts into a frown.

Letting go of Mary-Rose's hand, Claire pouts. Dean lifts the crying child up onto his knee, and rummages around in his bag with the other. Popping a purple pacifier into her mouth, he starts to gently rock her. "Claire, what have we said about hitting?" Cas asks sternly, and Dean pretends to be invisible for a few seconds.

"But, he was a mean boy!" The girl protests firmly, her eyes wandering to where a little boy is now running over to his Mommy – tears streaming down his face too.

"We're going home," grabbing up his things, Cas stands up from the bench.

Gasping loudly, Claire immediatley runs over to her new friend. "No!" Mary-Rose reaches out for her heroine, holding tightly onto her hand.

"The boy called me a stupid girl, and Claire was being my fwend!" Voice muffled by the pacifier, little Mary-Rose tells the two Dad's the truth.

A smirk tugs at the elder girl's mouth," _and,_ I didn't even say a bad word back," she states proudly, turning to her Dad for some praise.

"No, you just hit him," Dean can't help but snort, and Cas looks at him with disapproval.

Pretending that nothing happened, the Winchester then feels his daughter climb down from his lap. She wraps her arm's around Claire's waist, and squeezes her eyes shut. The plaited blonde finds something from her bag – a tissue, to wipe her new friend's watery eyes. "Right... I'd send you to go say sorry, but quite frankly the kid's a butthole – I've heard about him from your school," Cas begins, looking serious at his child.

"But, no more hitting, okay? Go play nicely," he ruffles her hair – much to her utter dismay – and, then hands her some juice to drink.

"Alright, whilst you two smile and giggle some more?" The extremely witty four (and a half) year old remarks, resulting in two rather blushy men in front of her.

Claire giggles, and then quickly grabs Mary's hand. The pair hurry off together, and the last thing that the parents catch within ear shot, is; "hey, you know one time _I_ had a pacifier... Batwoman took it to give to kids who were less brave than me!"

Dean coughs once, and then rubs at the back of his neck. "That sure is one hell of an offspring you've got there," he comments, looking at the blue eyed not-so-stranger anymore, beside him.

"Hmm, haven't I just?" a proud smile appears upon his face.

"No, I'm serious!" Dean adds, tossing his juice box into the nearby trash can.

Cas smiles wider, looking over at their two daughters drawing a picture in the sand together. "Thank you," he looks into the eyes of green. "Your daughter has _the_ most adorable freckles... And, well, so do you actually,"

A blush creeps upward across Dean's neck, and settles in a rosy shade of pink upon his cheeks. "Your daughter is gonna break a lotta hearts with those eyes.. Taking after her dad," returning the possible pickup line where he can, one of Dean's eyebrows raise.

"Who's to say I break hearts? Why can't I just make them skip a few beats?" His words are playful, but he looks somewhat serious too.

Dean ponders about how to reply, "well, I mean you certainly seem like the type to cause that."

 _"Really?"_

"I can definitely confirm this, from the ultimate personal experience."


	8. Chapter 8 Destiel College Oneshot

The rain batters the windows, and not even Dean's Walkman can drown the sound out. Ripping the wires from his ears, he throws the tacky piece of electrical equipment down onto the desk. Cas flinches from his spot on his bed, looking up at his frustrated friend.

"It's been raining forever!" Dean grumbles, pushing his chair backwards.

Cas' ocean eyes flit upwards, watching intently as Dean moves towards the window. He stares blankly at the raindrops running down the glass. "I need a smoke," shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he groans dramatically.

"No, you don't. You _want_ one – and, I don't want you to want one," Castiel counteracts, chewing on a string from his hoody.

Dean turns around, and rolls his eyes at his roommate. "Please, don't set the smoke alarm off again," Cas' eyes widen, whilst Dean pulls the worn out cardboard pack from his bag.

He places the stick inbetween his lips, and glances over to the guy on the bed opposite him. "I'll be back in a few," he smiles smugly.

Tightening his grip on his red varsity jacket, Dean heads out of their dorm room. Ignoring the sound of Cas' bare feet padding behind him, he walks towards the door to the stairs – he isn't really an elevator person, _especially_ in a torrential storm. "You'll get sick if you go out there!" Castiel yells after him, grimacing at the cold feeling of the metal stairs beneath his feet.

"You'll get sick if you follow me!" Dean calls back sarcastically, rummaging around in his back pocket for a lighter.

Their dorm room is only two floors up from the ground floor, so it's not a quick walk downwards. He reaches the front doors, and pushes them open. The sound of rain pierces rushers into his ears, and the gusts of wind immediately engulf him. Cas catches the door before Dean can shut him out, and he does a little dance to try and keep warm.

He watches his best friend light the cigarette up, and close his eyes in relief as he slowly inhales and exhales the toxic smoke. The click of the door behind him makes him jump from surprise, and then what happens next startles him even more... The dim lighting from all of the surrounding dorm rooms suddenly disappears, as well as the street lamps that had been flashing on and off. "You gotta be fucking kidding me!" Dean's voice is barely audible over the storm, but Cas can feel his anger.

"Power ou – outage?" Cas' teeth chatter, causing his friend to turn and face him.

Feelling overcome by the guilt of making the over worried Castiel hurry after him, he drops his cig to the ground. Using the heel of his sneaker to stamp it out, Dean reaches for the door. "Fuck," he cusses under his breath – the door has locked behind them.

He moves a numbing finger over to the buzzer button, and jabs at it incessantly. "Come on," making a fist he punches it.

"D – Dean, is it not working?" Cas' arms hug his own body, as he blinks raindrops from his eyelashes.

"The power outage must've overridden the system, and messed it up... It'll be on in a second, I'm sure." A small chuckle escapes his lips.

The wind latches onto groups of raindrops, sending them lashing towards the concrete building that Dean and Cas are trying to shelter under. A shiver captures Dean's body, as he pulls his jacket closer around his body again. He blinks the rainwater from his eyes, and then moves a little closer to his equally freezing friend.

"Sorry about this," the pair of them huddle closer into the corner of the building, eyes meeting.

"W – we could always conserve body heat, b – by hugging?" Castiel's eyes dart towards the ground.

Expecting Dean to just take his half serious offer as a joke, Cas gasps quietly as he feels two strong arms wrap around his torso. Dean rests his head in the crook of Castiel's neck,many squeezes him tight. "Like this?" His husky voice mumbles into his ear, and Cas isn't sure whether the next shiver he receives is even from the cold.

"Y – yeah," he repeats Dean's actions, and then lean's forwards to place his head onto Dean's shoulder.

But, Cas' face doesn't reach that far... Unsure of who made the actual move in the first place, he keeps his eyes screwed shut. The feeling of Dean's mouth brushing against his causes him to tense up, but Dean seems relaxed. He pulls Cas closer, by resting his palms against his back, and connects their lips properly.

Castiel plucks up the courage to start to kiss back, and the feeling washes over him just like the rain that spins around his head. Their mouths move in sync, and soon Dean's hands are gripping Cas' face. "Holy shit!" A feminine squeal causes both males to automatically jerk backwards from each other.

Their faces are red and flustered from the heat of the moment, but their bodies are soaked through with the rain. They both turn to see that the dorm's lights have come back on, and one of their fellow students is standing at the door. "I knew it!" The redhead claps happily, jumping up and down on the spot.

Dean pushes his sodden hair off of his forehead, and then licks his lips. He looks at Castiel, who is panting slightly as his vision bounces from the redhead, and then back to Dean. "Let's get inside," he grabs Cas by the hand, and interlinks their fingers.

The warmth hits their faces and feels homely as they step inside, and the girl shuts the door behind them. "My lips are sealed," she grins from ear to ear.

Somehow, despite almost catching hypothermia, Cas and Dean's cheeks are both heating up profusely. "Thanks, Charlie." Dean looks at the floor, but despite the butterflies in his stomach, he keeps ahold of Castiel's hand.

The girl in her pyjamas skips off down the corridor, leaving the pair standing there. "Dean," Cas exhales, not realising that he'd been holding his breath in the first instance.

"Will you help me quit smoking?" Dean blurts out, letting go of Cas' hand.

Inhaling shakily, Cas swallows. "On one condition," a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Dean frowns, staring into the eyes of blue in front of him. "You want the hot shower first?" His laughter turns into a shiver, as he scuffs his sneakers along the linen flooring.

"If you be my boyfriend."

Reaching into his back pocket, Dean's trembling fingers wrap around a soggy cardboard box. He takes it out, and aims for the nearest trash can. "We should probably go get showered," he extends his hand.

Castiel doesn't hesitate to take it, and as they walk down the hallway together, he breaks into a smile as he feels Dean press a kiss to his cheek.


	9. Chapter 9 Teacher Cas, Parent Dean

Cas is Claire's daycare teacher, and one day he has to call her dad because she's sick. Castiel falls head over heels for the hot singe dad that turns up to collect her.

"Hey, Bobby!" Dean hangs up the office phone, calling out to his boss who's taken over the car that Dean had just been working on, until a call came in for him.

His boss grumbles something under his breath, and sticks his head out around the side of the vehicle. "Claire's daycare teacher called, she's sick and needs picking up," he explains, rubbing his hands down onto his overalls.

"Alright, alright... You owe me one though," he points at the worker, and then turns back towards his office room.

"Thank you, I'll bring a six pack for ya!" Dean calls out, hurrying towards the exit of the garage, to the part where the employees put their things.

He unlocks his locker, getting frustrated when his greasy hands don't grip onto the number dial. Shoving everything into his worn out duffel bag. Stopping for a second, Dean looks himself up and down. There's not exactly time to change, but he's never gone to pick Claire up in his work uniform before – he makes sure he's washed all of the dirt off his skin, and changed into some smart clothing so that the parents (or teachers) can't judge him.

Sighing loudly, he jogs outside to his car. The engine starts up, and he pulls out of the garage. It's only a fifteen minute drive to where Claire attends daycare, so he arrives within good time. Jumping out of the front seat, he pushes the door shut and catches a glimpse of his face in the window – he has a few oil stains on his forehead where he's wiped the sweat with the back of his dirty hand... _Classy._

 _"Fuck,"_ Dean grits his teeth, eyeing up his even dirtier, navy blue overalls.

He strides up towards the front door of the building, and presses the buzzer with his thumb. After announcing who he is, and why he's come to the place, they let him in. Dean pushes the door open, and then makes his way to Claire's classroom – she's only two and a half, so she's currently in the 'Rosebud's classroom.'

He knocks once, and awaits for someone to answer. It's around half past one in the afternoon, so the classroom is fairly empty because of most of the children being asleep. "Hi, Mr Winchester!" The young woman smiles, tucking a strand of copper red hair behind her pierced ear.

Dean smiles warmly, stepping inside of the classroom. Feeling slightly anxious about the fact that his combat boots might make a mark on their linen floor, he tries to rub them against his trouser legs. "She's just over there, with Mr. Novak," the woman snaps him out of his stupid little worrying session, and he follows her finger with his gaze.

One of the other teachers is sat in the reading corner – one arm gently tucked around Claire, and the other holding a story book – and, her eyes are barely open, as she rests her head upon his arm. Dean notices that they've given her a pacifier, which confuses him a little. Quickly realising that they want him to go over to the pair, Dean steps closer towards the cosy corner.

Mr. Novak clearly hasn't noticed the presence of the parent, not until he's standing right above them both. "Daddy!" Claire wriggles out from underneath her teacher's arm, and walks into Dean's open arms.

Standing up from his previous crouching position, he picks her up into his arms. Mr. Novak looks up casually at the parent, and then takes in exactly what's in front of him – he's seen Mr. Winchester a few times before, but never in his work outfit. Feeling his cheeks heating up a little as he flattens out his tie, Novak stands up so that he's just a little shorter than Claire's Dad.

"Mr. Winchester," the teacher begins, stopping himself from shoving his hands into his pockets out of a usual nervous habit. "Sorry we had to call you away from work, but Claire's fever spiked after we gave her some Tylenol after snack time." He explains, looking sincerely towards the little girl in Dean's arms.

"Hmm, I thought she'd last the day," Dean pouts unintentionally – which Mr. Novak finds undoubtedly adorable.

Claire's arms are draped around her Dad's neck, as she snuggles her head into the crook of his neck. Her big blue eyes look at her teacher, who makes a funny face to get her to giggle. "You gave her a pacifier?" Dean's eyebrows raise, and then Novak's facial expression drops a little.

"She was very distressed during lunch time, so we took one of our spares out of the cupboard... We know you've only recently started weening her off it, s – sorry," he doesn't mean to stutter, but Dean Winchester is a little bit intimidating.

The man's face suddenly softens, causing Mr. Novak to exhale with relief. "It's alright, if she was upset like that.. Was she okay?" Dean holds his daughter a little tighter, using one of his hands to brush some messy blonde hair out of her flushed face.

Cas nods, "we took her away from the lunch table, and I sat with her in the cosy corner." The teacher explains, and Dean smiles – Claire seems to really like him.

"He let me try on his tie!" The girl exclaims through her pacifier, grinning towards Mr. Novak. Dean's eyes wander to the scruffily tied tie, that has a pattern of multicoloured cats printed all over it.

"It's... Very nice," his head cocks to the side a little, as he tries to work out the fashion appeal.

Mr. Novak's cheeks seem to go a little pink, so he quickly starts to usher Dean towards Claire's peg. "I hope she feels better soon!" The teacher says, whilst Dean puts her down so that he can collect up her things.

"Trust me, she'll probably be running around and destroying my living room by tonight," Mr. Winchester chuckles, as Claire coughs a little – as if just to prove a point.

" _Claire?_ Destroy something?" The man acts surprised, looking down at the toddler who has a cheeky look upon her face already.

She rubs at her little red nose with the back of her hand, and then walks up to her teacher. "Bye, bye, Mr. Novak!" She grabs his legs tightly, and cuddles them.

Dean watches as the teacher crouches down to her level, and gently returns the hug. "Get better!" He boops her freckled nose – something he'd also noticed in her Dad's facial features too – and she giggles again.

"Hopefully we'll see you in a couple days again," Dean can't wipe the lopsided smile off of his face... He's never really had the time to pay attention to any of Claire's teachers before, and certainly not the super cute one with the strange taste in ties.

"I hope to see you too – uh, I mean – you _and_ Claire," the flustered young man scratches at the back of his neck, standing up so quickly that he gets dizzy.

Dean's too busy trying to work out how to carry his daughter as well as her things (why does she insist on bringing a frickin' giant toy unicorn?!), so thankfully, he doesn't really catch what the teacher had just implied. "Bye!" The Winchester calls out, juggling with her unicorn in one arm, his actual child in the other, and then her bag on his back.

The woman teacher quickly places her juice cup into her backpack, and Novak hurries over to open up the door. He smiles at Claire just before Dean walks out with her, and just as his woman co-worker turns her back, he could've sworn that the man _winked_ at him... Surely he didn't, _right?_


	10. Chapter 10 New Boy at the Lake

In which Dean lives in a small town, with his Father, and younger brother. He's only nineteen, and without enough money to move out on his own. He hates where he lives, and usually doesn't agree with anything his Father says. So, he often escapes to the hidden lake a few miles from there house... Nobody knows about this place, at least, that's what Dean thought.

"You literally _always_ dote on Sam! You cone to every school event he does, but when _I_ try and get a job somewhere you don't agree on, you want to kick me out?!" Dean's throat is already growing raw from screaming at his Dad, who's participating in the yelling match just as loudly.

The man scoffs at his teenage son, his eyes full of a sense of mockery. "You'll never amount to anything if you want to go and work in a music studio! It's pathetic!" He spits at Dean, who doesn't back down from standing directly in his face.

"So, enjoying being in that environment is bad, is it? Enjoying myself isn't allowed now?! What about if I wanted to go to Stanford, would you love me then?!" He feels the irony taste of blood in his mouth from biting his lip so hard, trying to bite back the tears.

The words that his Father begins to shouts all blend into one, as Dean tears himself away from the situation. He's gotten violent before, and that really didn't end well. The words bounce off of the denim jacket that covers his back, and he starts to run. He jumps down two stairs at a time, ignoring the stomping of John's (his Dad – who _hates_ it when Dean calls him by his first name) boots causing the worn out wood to physically shake from behind him.

Practically yanking the front door off of its hinges, Dean steps outside into the crisp, October air. "That's it, run away from all of your problems and confrontations! Don't come running back anytime soon!" Is the last thing that captures Dean's eardrums, before he's fully out of earshot and around the next corner.

Feeling numb inside, and not even realising he forgot to wear shoes, his feet seem to be carrying him to the right place anyway. His brain is pretty much hardwired towards this escape – the hidden lake, just outside of town.

Dean uses the cuff of his denim jacket to vigorously wipe at his eyes, and then he shoves his hands inside his jacket pockets. He doesn't meet any other living thing on the way to his secret safe haven – people don't come out much here, there's nothing to do. A small shiver runs up his spine, as the fallen trees over the entrance to his getaway fill his watery vision.

Not caring about scratching his hands on the branches, he uses all of his strength to push some of the twigs and leaves aside. A frown paints upon his brow... Usually, he has to use a lot more energy up to get in here. But, today he barely has to lift a finger. He knows that the last time he was here, he made sure to cover the archway up so that nobody else can discover it. Weird.

As he climbs inside the enclosed space, the usually silent atmosphere seems to be disturbed this evening. Dean freezes on the spot, and closes his eyes to listen more carefully. It's barely even audible, but the tiniest mumbling noise is coming from somewhere by the waters edge. Sudden feelings of worry and hesitation wash over the teenager – but, he knows that he can't turn back towards his 'home.'

Deciding to confront this stranger who's stolen his solitary confinement, Dean starts walking again. He steps over a few tree roots, and makes sure to push the branches back downwards behind him as he goes. His eyes turn into a squint, as he observes whoever is crouched down by the lakeside. They seem to be of a build that shows them to be of Dean's age. "Hello?" His attempt at calling out is a raspy mess, so he clears his throat and steps a little closer.

"You okay there?" This time he's definitely been heard, as the unknown guest on the floor almost jumps out of his skin.

The guy stands up straight, and spins around to look Dean in the eye. "Why would you do that to a person?!" He's clutching at his heart, but Dean is distracted by a fair few things – number one; he is a rather attractive looking teenager. Two; his eyes and nose are even redder, and more water than Dean's, indicating that he's been crying for rather a long time. And, three; he's only wearing a short sleeved t-shirt.

Quickly giving himself a mental note to stop staring, Dean adverts his eyes to the grassy floor. "S – sorry," he stammers, scratching at the back of his neck.

"I didn't realise anyone else came here," the other teen begins to grow self conscious, as he turns back around.

He knows that it's no use trying to hide the fact he's upset, so he sits back down with a sigh. The boy throws a nearby stone as far as he can into the lake, and concentrates his stare at the splash. "I didn't know either," Dean admits, taking a seat beside the new comer.

"Hm," the guy simply states.

"Aren't you cold?" Dean cringes at what a stupid question he'd just asked. He tends to get like this around attractive people. This guy has the most blue of eyes, and he wants to look at them again.

An unexpected chuckle escapes the lips beside Dean, and then the guy turns his head towards the blushing individual. "You ask stupid questions," his hand extends out towards Dean's. "I'm Cas," they shake hands, and for some reason Dean gets a tiny swarm of butterflies doing a dance inside his stomach. Or, maybe he's just hungry.

"I'm Dean... I'm guessing this is your escape too?" One of his eyebrows raises, as he asks the question.

Cas nods once, and then attempts to inhale through his stuffy nose. "I've never been here for this amount of time though, but I can't really go home..." He trails off, and Dean notices him start to pick at his nails.

"If it makes you feel any better, we're both sorta in the same boat." Dean's eyes of green meet those of blue again. The blue ones filled with so much sadness, but so much longing to get out of here, and do something more.

Cas takes a shaky breath in through his mouth, and then tosses yet another stone into the water. "My parents found out I'm gay," he blurts out to the guy who he's only known for about three and a half minutes.

Dean doesn't say anything for quite a while. He wasn't expecting this 'Cas' to be so forwards about his life problems, but he feels an overwhelming sense of empathy towards the fellow teen. "I um," swallowing, he finds himself picking at his own nails. "When my Dad found out I was bi, I think I stayed here for about seven hours."

Cas' ocean eyes flit upwards, and see that Dean is staring out at the lake too. "We are k – kinda in the same boat," the chattering of his teeth draw Dean's attention back over to the real world.

Feeling his cheeks heat up at what the not-so-stranger shrugging his jacket off, Cas actually smiles for the first time in a long time. "That's very cliche," he giggles, and then claps a hand over his mouth.

"My Mom used to teach me to always give my jacket to someone who's cute, and cold," Dean shrugs, and then extends his arm out so that Cas has no choice but to take the garment of clothing.

It's a little loose fitting, but it's a nice warmth. It smells of cologne, and Cas could quite easily curl up inside of the clothing, and fall fast asleep right here. "Thank you," he looks up at Dean, who's smiling like an idiot.

His smile is contagious, and soon both teenagers are laughing about something they have no idea about being so funny. Cas lies down on his back, and sighs a long sigh. "Have you ever watched the stars here before?" He asks quietly, observing the dusty sky above them.

Dean lies down beside him, taking in the clouds – remembering looking for cloud snaps with his brother, and Mom. "Yeah, not to sound cliche again, but the stars are always beautiful out here."

Cas turns his head just a little, so that he can take in Dean's side profile. Feeling the pair of eyes against him, Dean turns his own head too. "Ever been kissed out here?" His mouth moves and the words come out before he can stop them, and he sincerely hopes that Cas doesn't notice the bright shade of pink that his cheeks are currently turning.

"No," Cas' voice is reduced to a whisper. "But, I'd like to be."

The pair are about two centimetres apart, and Dean's eyes have been flickering upwards from Cas' lips of pink, and his eyes of blue, for the past minute. Their fingertips gently brush together, and it's Dean who makes the first move in order to entwine their fingers together. This pulls Cas just that little bit closer, and then each pair of eyes gently flutter closed, as their mouths finally connect.

Cas squeezes Dean's hand, and brings his free one up to cup the side of his face. Their lips move in sync, as if they've done this many times before. They even pull away at the same time, and open their eyes to stare directly into the opposite colour. "This is an ever better view than the stars," Dean smirks, but Cas starts laughing again.

"Touché." he winks, before leaning in for another warm embrace.


End file.
